[ There it is, the pop of a vein in Gale's temple that Astarion was looking for. He smirks, slowing his steps slightly, so Gale can catch up. ]

Oh, not all. [ Astarion didn't miss the innuendo, and it so happens that the cluster of mushrooms they're strolling past look particularly phallic. Not hard for a mushroom, but still. They're not the ones that have been combusting, so Astarion takes the risk of dragging the point of his dagger along one's thick pink cap, setting a cloud of shimmering spores into the air. Breezily, ] You did show me some of your other proclivities, though I never hear much in that vein from your tent.

And you did almost drown me, not long ago. [ Never mind the fact that Astarion doesn't need to breathe the same way the living do, but there's still a limit to how much water his lungs can hold. ] I can't be too careful.